


No Splashing

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 13:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Why did the Drivers and Blades cross the river? To get to the other side.





	No Splashing

**Author's Note:**

> fisticuffs is my fave genre 
> 
> when i played xc2 for the first time i was pretty disappointed we couldn't climb up onto that ridge on Gormott's back or its neck. it would've been cool to see the plains and Torigoth from a higher elevation.

Some kid in Torigoth had asked them to help recover a missing item that’d been dropped somewhere atop Gormott’s spine, where the ground is more uneven and there isn’t enough wildlife to stamp out trails to follow. Smaller life flourishes up there. Plants and bugs and smaller animals. Trekking along the ridge will likely take the whole afternoon.

A modest river stands between the party and the other side of the woods. It doesn’t look terribly deep— but then Rex wades in first to see how strong the currents are, and the water comes up to his neck. He waves to them, splashing water both over himself and a rather disgruntled Azurda.

“Water’s fine! Just be careful of the loose pebbles at the bottom!”

“Sure, easy for you to say, you’ve already got a suit made for swimming…” Nia mutters.

“It’s not for swimming, it’s for _salvaging._ Salvaging doesn’t usually involve swimming, see, it’s more about the diving. The boots aren’t made for that kind of fast movement. They’re heavy, but I’ve got these spikes on the soles of mine that’re meant to—“

“Does it look like I care about the semantics! Whatever!”

Nia hops up on Dromarch’s back anyway, and she pulls Pyra up behind her. Poppi is already flying over the stream with Tora while Rex trudges onwards. It’s just some water. Finding a way around it would take longer, so might as well just deal with some wet clothes for the time being.

Brighid is the most hesitant to proceed and for good reason. Mòrag gestures to her, noticing her discomfort.

“Climb up onto my shoulders, Brighid. We mustn’t fall behind.”

“Lady Mòrag, I couldn’t possibly.”

“The water looks cold. You’ll be weakened.”

“Well, true…”

She sighs. Mòrag kneels, and Brighid carefully sits upon her shoulders, clearly displeased with these arrangements and this awkward position. It’s just rather undignified, is what it is, even if being carried by Lady Mòrag is… admittedly nice. Brighid clings to her rather noticeably when they enter the water, already shivering. The water sizzles around her feet, and Mòrag proceeds slowly as to avoid slipping on that treacherously loose riverbed Rex had pointed out. At least the water only comes up to her chest, while Rex had been practically swimming through it.

Dromarch is about halfway across, only slightly weighed down by both Nia and Pyra. Meanwhile, Rex is already climbing up onto the opposite bank and receiving an earful from Gramps about water getting in the helmet.

Pandoria nudges Zeke. They’d simply been watching the rest of them figure out their own ways to cross the stream, and now they’ve come to their own solution as well. Sort of. It’s clearly a no-brainer— just wade across, right? Of course not. That would be _too_ easy.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Prince?”

“Hah! How could I not be?”

Without further ado, Pandoria deftly clambers up onto Zeke’s back like some sort of insect and onto his shoulders, much less graceful than Brighid. Zeke jogs in place, raring to start.

“Here we go! Ready, Pandy?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

They yell.

Brighid turns. Her eyes would widen in horror if she had bothered to open them, probably.

“Lady Mòrag, behind us—“

“Yes, I hear them,” Mòrag says through gritted teeth, still trying to cautiously make her way across without slipping. They’re just… crossing… a stream. Nothing more, nothing less. But Zeke is loudly splashing through the water with Pandoria perched atop his shoulders, egging him on and shouting louder and louder as they draw closer, impending doom incarnate.

Up ahead, Nia looks over and rolls her eyes. Dromarch paddles his legs just a bit faster to widen the distance between them.

“That’s an unusually sluggish pace, Flamebringer!” Zeke hollers over the noisy splashing. Brighid hisses. No— she doesn’t hiss. It’s just droplets of water sizzling against her legs and arms. Maybe.

“Yeah! If you don’t pick up the pace, we’re gonna catch uuuup!”

“This isn’t a race!” Mòrag snaps.

“Just ignore them.”

Too late. Zeke is already striding up beside Mòrag, slapping his arms against the water with every step he takes forward. Brighid cringes as far away as she can without compromising her position on Mòrag’s shoulders, and scowls.

“Pandoria, if you could _please_ get your Driver under control.”

“Sorry, I’m not the one with the steering wheel!”

“What steering wheel.”

“It’s not a race, she says! And yet she’s walking faster already!” Zeke declares. “Careful you don’t lose your balance, now!”

Brighid’s thighs are like a vice around her neck at this point. Which wouldn’t really be a problem in other circumstances, but in between that and the splashing from Zeke and their deliberate provocations, Mòrag is beginning to lose her patience. It’s not a race. It’s not a race. It’s not— oh, damn it all.

Zeke grins widely, expecting her to splash back.

Instead, Mòrag punches him.

“Oof—“

Brighid applauds. “A magnificent blow, Lady Mòrag!”

“Priiiiince—!” Pandoria wails as Zeke reels back with a grunt, teetering, both of them flailing their arms. But he regains his footing in the water, rubbing his jaw and a dangerous glint now in his grin.

“Ooh, it’s like _that_ now, is it? Excellent! I’ve always wanted to have a proper fistfight with the illustrious Flamebringer!” Zeke laughs, cracking his knuckles. Neither of them are even trying to move forward anymore; they’ve come to a standstill, facing off in the middle of the stream, stances ready for battle with their Blades sitting on their shoulders. The water serenely moves around them in its gentle current.

“Come at me!”

“Know your place, fools!”

Rex squints, shaking droplets of water out of his helmet while Azurda stretches out in the warm grass beside him. “What’re they doing? Why’d they stop?”

“Oh, let ‘em have their fun. Or, whatever you wanna call that kind of idiocy,” Nia yawns. She stretches out as well to enjoy the afternoon sun. A bit away from them, Dromarch vigorously shakes the water from his fur, and Pyra crouches close to warm him with her fire.

“It seems kinda mean when you put it that way, Nia.”

“Yeah? Good.”

Lightning crackles. Flames roar. Water splashes. Mòrag and Zeke are punching each other.

Then, all four of them abruptly collapse into the water with the mightiest splash yet. Someone shrieks as it happens, but whether it’s Pandoria or Zeke is left ambiguous.

 

* * *

 

Brighid is still sizzling by the time Tora complains that they’ve been sitting around for too long, and that it’ll be dark by the time they recover the missing item and hike back down to Torigoth. The water wasn’t… _really_ an issue, because her flames are hot enough to dry off both her and Mòrag fairly quickly, but falling into the stream like that was an unpleasant experience nonetheless. It was cold.

It was stupid, too. Even Rex seems unamused, impatient to continue on their way.

“I should have hit him harder,” Mòrag mutters, huddling against Brighid.

“No, I don’t think that was the problem there.”

Zeke loudly sneezes, loud enough that Nia startles and hisses at him. “Hey, Brighid, how about sharing some of that heat with me and Pandy? We’re freezing over here!”

Brighid sets both of them on fire.


End file.
